


Maximum Daily Dosage

by Heartbreakmosh (PompousPickle)



Category: Pro Wrestling NOAH
Genre: Gen, Kayfabe Compliant, Sickfic, These boys are nightmares I love them, alcohol mention, back at it again with the kongoh shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28296009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PompousPickle/pseuds/Heartbreakmosh
Summary: Kenoh has the flu. No one in Kongoh is a natural-born caretaker. They make due.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	Maximum Daily Dosage

Tadasuke was the first to visit, completely uninvited. Kitamiya opened the door to him grinning ear to ear, holding up two bottles of his favorite brand of awamori. “I brought Zanpa!” he announced, letting himself in by ducking underneath Masa’s arm. Masa just stared as Tadasuke immediately made his way to the kitchen, browsing through the cabinets for glasses. 

“Pretty sure Kenoh told everyone he didn’t want visitors,” Kitamiya sighed, getting out some ice. The faster he could get Tadasuke out, the better. Ideally before Kenoh realized anyone else was there. If pouring the man a glass of alcohol was the way to do it, then so be it. 

“You get to stay,” Tadasuke pointed out with a lopsided smile, placing the two glasses he picked out on the counter.

“Not by choice,” Kitamiya grumbled as he filled the two glasses with ice. Tadasuke opened the first bottle, pouring two generous helpings. “Do you  _ know  _ what he’s like when he’s sick?  _ Someone  _ has to play babysitter.” 

“You say that like you mind,” Tadasuke examined the two glasses, leaning over the counter to inspect them. He poured a little more into the right glass, as though making sure they were both perfectly even with each other. Kitamiya blinked. The man really was surprisingly astute when he wanted to be. 

Masa had no real rebuttal for that, so he relented. He reached for one of the glasses in front of him, before Tadasuke swatted his hand away. “It’s not for you,” he said matter-of-factly, grabbing both glasses and walking off towards the bedroom. 

“Oh no. No, no you don’t,” Masa wrapped his arm around Tadasuke’s stomach, dragging him back and causing some of the alcohol to splash out of the glass and onto the floor. Tadasuke made an affronted, choking noise. “He’s  _ sick.  _ He’s  _ resting,  _ you fucking idiot.” 

“But it’s an Okinawan staple!” Tadasuke tried again, ducking and spinning out of Masa’s hold, only to find himself grabbed by the wrist. One of the glasses tumbled to the floor, hitting the wood loudly without breaking. The drink spilled everywhere, ice sliding across the floor and under the nearby couch. 

The bedroom door opened at the noise. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ,” Kenoh just grumbled. His face was spotted bright red, eyes swollen and restless. His hair stuck out in random directions, clearly sweating throughout his afternoon nap. He was wearing a hoodie and sweats, sleeves rolled up as though he couldn’t decide whether he was too hot or too cold. 

“Kenoh! I brought Zanpa! It always makes me feel better. Just drink a cup and then I brought some books to read. So you can just lay back and relax while Kitamiya-san and I clean up the mess we made!” 

“ _ We _ made?” Masa blinked again, already grabbing a dish towel from the kitchen rack. This guy really was incredible sometimes. 

Kenoh wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed the glass from Tadasuke’s hand, wet and slippery from the ruckus before. He held onto it firmly, his knuckles nearly white as he took a massive gulp, with far more intensity than the drink is meant to be consumed with. 

He slammed the cup down on the end table next to the couch. “Get out.” He huffed, his chest heaving with effort. He started coughing almost immediately, having swallowed far too quickly for his condition to handle. Both Tadasuke and Kitamiya rushed over to guide him to the nearest seat, only for Kenoh to flail his arms out, pushing them both away. 

He sat down himself, grabbing his drink for another sip. He stared at the glass, like watching the ice slowly melt and sink lower and lower was the most fascinating thing he had seen in his life. “Leave before I get you sick.” 

His voice was startlingly quiet, and even Tadasuke seemed taken off guard. “Aright, alright,” he laughed, looking at Masa with actual sympathy. “I’ll head out then. I’ll leave him in your care.” He backed up towards the door, bowing politely to Kitamiya like he hadn’t barged in uninvited in the first place. 

“Idiot,” Kenoh scoffed, no small amount of affection in his voice. He took another sip of his drink all the same. “I’m too congested. I can’t even fucking taste it.” 

\---

Nioh showed up next, with a large bag containing at least one bottle of sake. Kenoh was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and staring at the TV in a near trance. “Tell 'em to go away,” he said, not even turning his head to look at who it was. 

Nioh scoffed, though he barely seemed hurt as he placed the bottle of sake on the kitchen counter, next to the bottles of awamori. “Come on, don’t be like that. We’re worried about you,” he chided as he walked into the kitchen and placed the bag on the floor. He leaned over, pulling out an electric kettle, plugging it into an outlet on the wall. 

“If you’re going to go that far, can’t you at least make tea like a normal person?” Kitamiya watched a bit helplessly. If he knew Kenoh, the man would only tolerate this for a few more minutes before kicking Nioh out himself. There was no sense in trying to cause more problems than they already had. 

“Sake is great for the flu,” Nioh supplied casually. “You need to be drinking lots of hot liquids, both of you. You’re at risk for getting sick too, Kitamiya. Where do you keep your drinkware?” 

Well, at least he asked, unlike Tadasuke. 

“Don’t want sake,” Kenoh growled, moving himself on the couch to face them, just barely. He sat with his legs up, pulling the blanket tighter. “Just want to be left alone. By both of you. My fucking head hurts.” 

Nioh filled the kettle with water to boil for the carafe. “Has he been this bad all day?” He spoke as if he was ignoring Kenoh entirely. “Should we call someone with more experience? Maybe Ohar-” 

“Absolutely not,” Masa didn’t let him finish the sentence, nearly rushing over to cover his mouth before Kenoh could hear him. If he had, he didn’t react. Kitamiya sighed in relief. 

“But his fever hasn’t broken at all, has it?” Nioh frowned pondering over their options. 

“For the one time he let me get close enough to take it? No,” Kitamiya laughed a little, pouring himself a small cup of sake without heating it up first. Nioh looked utterly disgusted and insulted, and Masa couldn’t help but laugh harder. 

“I can  _ hear you  _ motherfuckers. My ears are still fucking working.” Kenoh then started coughing, head too heavy to let him move much more than he already had. “And don’t call him. Please.” He added, almost under his breath. Neither of the other two commented. 

“The doctor said it was just a normal flu, so I’ll probably leave him to bitch and moan while I get food for dinner later. Then he can finally be alone,” Kitamiya continued as the water began to hiss and boil from the kettle. “But if I come back and he’s doing squats or pushups or some shit, I’m knocking him out.” 

Kenoh groaned loudly from the couch, hating being ignored at the best of times. He fell back onto the couch, finally laying down to bury his head into the pillow so he didn’t have to listen to them anymore. Nioh and Masa both shook their heads and smiled at each other, and they poured the boiling water into the carafe to heat some sake. 

\---

To his credit, Haoh didn’t even bother trying to get past the doorway. He merely stood outside, bundled up in a winter coat and holding a large jar under his arm. Inside was a clear liquid with a conspicuously milky consistency. 

“The last thing we need is more alcohol,” Kitamiya sighed, refusing to take the jar even as Haoh held it out for him to take. 

“No,” Haoh tried again, pushing the jar forward and into Kitamiya’s arms, until he had no choice but to grab it. Haoh smiled, tiny and falsely angelic, with an undercurrent of devious certainty. “This is the stuff. Trust me.” 

Masa unscrewed the lid and took a small whiff. He lurched forward immediately, feeling his lungs rise to his throat. He immediately slammed the lid back on, tightening it quickly as he looked at Haoh for some kind of explanation. However, the other man offered none. He merely nodded again, the same smile on his face as he bowed and walked away. 

Kitamiya stood in the doorway for a full minute trying to process what had just happened. He opened the jar again, out of morbid curiosity, and took another sniff. With a wince, he placed the jar on the counter, and wondered if the smell was strong enough to clear up even Kenoh’s sinuses. 

\---

“Knock knock!” A warm and familiar voice rang out from the other side of the door. Masa thought long and hard before opening, glancing over at the living room area. Kenoh was finally asleep, sliding off of the couch and onto the floor. Kitamiya didn’t want to risk waking him to correct his position, so he resolved to just watch the man harmlessly tumble to the ground when gravity inevitably won. 

He sighed, weighing his different options before finally opening the door a crack. “He’s sleeping, by the way,” Masa said in a hushed voice, looking at Inamura Yoshiki beaming at him.

The young man held up a brown paper bag with a gourmet shop logo stamped on it, as though it were some kind of secret code to get inside. As he held it up, Masa heard the telltale clanging of bottles within, and he stroked his chin, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Where in hell do you people get your medical advice?” Masa took the bags and peered inside, raising his eyebrows a little at the ritzy wine that Inamura had apparently splurged on. 

“They’re for you, actually,” Yoshiki nodded, his smiling faltering just a little, displaying just the smallest crack of uncertainty. Masa had gotten used to looking for that kind of thing. “It was Kai...it was Kiyomiya’s idea. He knows how Kenoh can get so…” 

“Tell him thank you for me.” 

The two stood there for a few seconds, the winter air only growing colder and more awkward between them. “Shit. Fine. Come in.” Masa couldn’t take it anymore, opening the door for his former protege to walk in, relieved and no small part delighted. 

Masa placed the bag on the counter, not bothering to take the wine out yet. Trying to think up some small talk, he turned to Inamura. However, Inamura was already several feet ahead of him, looking down on the couch, where Kenoh’s entire upper body had since sunk to the floor, blanket pulled half over his head. 

“I’ll get his legs if you want to push his arms up,” Yoshiki said quietly, with a laugh. Masa nodded, a smile creeping onto his own face as he made his way over to the couch. 

Masa positioned his hands under Kenoh’s shoulders as best he could, nodding to Yoshiki. “Ready and…” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “go!” he pushed up as Inamura grabbed the legs and pulled, successfully getting the man back onto the couch. Kenoh kicked his legs back with force at being disturbed, but Inamura had good enough reflexes to jump back quickly, avoiding getting hit. 

He held his hands up, like a kid caught reaching into a cookie jar. He looked over at Masa, still crouched next to Kenoh, grumbling something into his pillow with much aggravation. The two of them just laughed, all pretenses finally vanished. And Masa had to admit that it felt pretty good. 

Inamura helped Kitamiya locate the spare futon and set it out right in front of the couch, in case their patient decided to toss and turn again. Masa decided to break their comfortable silence. “Noticed you’ve been getting a lot of attention lately. Make sure you aren’t letting it go to your head.” It was attention that was well-deserved, but he didn’t need to say it. Not right now. 

Inamura seemed to understand anyway, grinning once again as he patted down the futon and stood up. “Who? Me? Never.” Inamura looked at him sweetly, and Masa just rolled his eyes. 

This was the part where one of them would suggest they go get food, or talk over moves, or both. But it wasn’t like that anymore. Yoshiki had things to hide from Masa now. They were rivals. They had distances to keep between them. 

“I can order some takeout,” Inamura finally offered. “Wings sound good?” 

Wings sounded wonderful. But Masa still shook his head. “I bought shit for dinner already.” He had in fact come back from the store to see Kenoh trying to do drills. Fortunately whatever Haoh had given him did the trick in barely twenty minutes, even if Masa didn’t exactly agree with the method. “But I mean, once I’m off Kenoh duty?”

“Yeah.  _ Hell  _ yeah,” Inamura nodded, pleased with the answer. It wasn’t closure, not really. Masa wasn’t sure if they’d ever get that. But he’s learned enough to know that you can tag with someone, watch them walk away, and still find yourself in-sync with them years later. He looked over at Kenoh and sighed. He knew it all too well. 

He walked Inamura out, thanking him for the help, and the wine. And he watched the boy walk away with a weird sense of pride welling in his chest, knowing that there were stories that were still beginning. 

\---

“You were the last person I expected to show up,” Kitamiya grunted, opening the door. 

“I wasn’t going to,” Nakajima shrugged, holding two bags from a local convenience store. “But then Kenoh told us to stay away about six times. And it really made me want to come anyway.” 

Kitamiya snorted. “Is that what it is…” He supposed it was pretty typical of Kongoh, in retrospect. “Well, leave. He doesn’t want visitors.” Though if Kenoh had texted that many times, he wondered how true that actually was. 

“Worried he’ll get us all sick? Sounds like him…” Katsuhiko chuckled, as though he were genuinely trying to be playful and friendly, like it was still 2016. Like nothing had changed, like it could all go back. Kitamiya closed his eyes, thought of Inamura, stripped away some of his pride, and let Nakajima inside. 

“You’re cooking?” Nakajima walked over to the kitchen, casually leaving his bags on the counter. The plastic fell open on one, revealing three cans of cheap convenience store beer. He took a large spoon from the side of the stove and looked inside the pot. Masa slid in immediately, ripping the spoon from his hand, sending some of the stew flying. 

“Seriously, are  _ none  _ of you worried about germs?” He wiped the spoon clean and placed it to the side. 

Nakajima just laughed, leaning against the counter casually. “So where is he?” he finally asked, tilting his head to glance towards the main area. His eyes danced around, betraying his own curiosity and worry.

Masa almost laughed at the sight. “You’re the same guy, huh…” he mumbled, mostly to himself. Katsuhiko still looked back at him, clearly not amused. “You don’t need to worry. It’s just a normal flu, and he’s feeling better. He’s in the shower now.” 

“I wasn’t worried at all. Just curious.” Nakajima shrugged and Masa merely shook his head. Katsuhiko was getting better and better at lying every day. That was one thing that had certainly changed about him. 

As if on cue, the sound of running water in the distance stopped. Kitamiya started to leave the kitchen area to hopefully intercept Kenoh and warn him about their present company, only to stop when he noticed Katsuhiko intervening with his stew again, grabbing a taste and reaching for a jar of cumin. “Would you cut that  _ out _ ?” 

“His sense of taste is probably diluted,” Katsuhiko replied. “Why do you think I brought only cheap beer?” 

Before Masa could argue, Kenoh cleared his throat from around the corner, stopping them both in their tracks. “What the fuck is he doing here?” 

Kenoh looked a bit better, Masa decided. The hot water had brought color back to his skin, rather than just the redness around his nose and eyes. He still looked drained, but he was starting to have faith that this really was just a 24-hour bug. “Not my idea, trust me,” Kitamiya grunted. Nakajima only laughed, running a hand through his curls. 

“Leave,” Kenoh tried, like he had been trying all day. He made his way to the dining table and dropped down, hair still wet from the shower and dressed in his sweats and a t-shirt, accumulating water around the shoulders. He groaned, sinking downwards and hitting his head against the table. “I fucking hate this.” 

Finally, Nakajima left the kitchen, pulling up a chair at the table to sit next to him. Masa scoffed. Always an attentive busybody, even now. Even while trying to protect this image he had so carefully constructed. Masa could only imagine how annoying he must have been when taking care of Shiozaki. Then again, Shiozaki probably needed an even more careful eye than Kenoh, as stubborn as he was. “You’ll be fine,” Nakajima soothed, almost sounding disconnected from the situation. 

“You think I don’t know that?” Kenoh wasn’t soothed at all, lifting his head just enough to glare at his company. “And then I’m going to fucking kill whoever gave this to me.” 

Masa took out a clean spoon and tested the stew for himself, finally satisfied that it was good enough to serve. “For the last time, it was just a freak thing, probably from overworking. I don’t think anyone on the rost-” 

“Marufuji  _ was  _ complaining of a congestion headache, the other day, come to think of it.” Nakajima had the nerve to almost sound innocent as he said it. 

Masa groaned loudly. Truly he hated that man. 

“I fucking  _ knew  _ it,” Kenoh sat up with a start, far too quickly. He clutched his head, resting his elbow on the table. “I’m going to kill that man. First he thinks he can take my title and then he gives me this goddamn disease. And had the nerve to try to get the rest of Kongoh to catch it from me…” 

“I hate you,” Masa reminded Katsuhiko, placing a bowl in front of both him and Kenoh. He then went to go make a bowl for himself. He had made enough, he decided. And as long as Katsu was there, he might as well make himself useful and polish off some of the extras. 

Kenoh ate with a lot more fervor after that, as much as Kitamiya didn’t want to admit it. He seemed a lot more lively when he had a reason to be angry, and someone to direct that anger towards. And it was better than him constantly asking him how he was feeling. Katsuhiko just grinned and ate, kicking his feet up casually on an empty chair like he owned the place. 

After dinner, Kenoh was the one to finally convince their uninvited guest to leave, even after Nakajima tried to clean up the dishes in the kitchen. He cursed and hissed at the other man, insisting that he didn’t need any more nuisances in his home, let alone to watch another Kongoh member get sick. Nakajima seemed satisfied with that, shrugging before he left, not offering a single word of friendliness or comfort to either of them. 

However, a few seconds after he left, Masa heard the sound of hissing and boiling from the kitchen. He looked over at the electric kettle and noticed that Nakajima must have turned it on while attempting to do the dishes. And in the second convenience store bag, there was a package of tea and honey. Kitamiya sighed. Even after all these years, he was still Nakajima, after all. 

A few minutes later, while pouring tea for Kenoh, Masa’s phone buzzed. He looked at it and clicked his tongue. “Oy, Kenoh. Soya is coming over too.” It was getting late, and there was apparently no use in fighting it anymore. But it was nice to know that at least one person bothered to send a warning. 

Kenoh only hummed, reaching out his hands as Kitamiya handed him the tea. “They really all came, huh…” 

His face looked relaxed as he stared into his cup, far away in his own thoughts. He looked younger, classically handsome almost, even with the swelling around his face. Masa just smiled. “Yeah. I guess they did.” 

\---

Masa felt his eye twitch when Soya showed up with a full plastic bag in his arms. However, to his surprise, when he took it from the other man, there wasn’t a single bottle of alcohol inside. There were throat lozenges, two bottles of cold juice, and a small bottle of cough syrup. “Hey, thanks. This is...actually great.” It was probably a small gesture, but apparently not as common of one as Masa thought. 

“Anything for my Kongoh comrades,” Soya shrugged with a genuine smile, glancing around from just inside the door. His eyes fell on the kitchen counter, littered with largely unopened bottles of various kinds of alcohol from throughout the day. “Well shit. That all up for grabs?” 

Masa looked over. Kenoh was asleep, finally in bed after Kitamiya finally convinced him that the mattress wasn’t somehow making him feel worse. Masa had earned himself a little relaxation of his own. “Yeah. Yeah it actually is. Come on.” He stepped aside and Soya took off his shoes, bowing with a smile as the two opened cabinets to grab proper glassware for the night. 

They picked their liquor, with Masa daring Soya unsuccessfully to try some of Haoh’s mysterious mystery cure. He took the smallest sip before turning up his nose, reaching for the cheap beer instead. He popped it open, leaning back on the counter with an almost enviable amount of ease. 

Soya then opened a second can, sliding it over to his partner. He held up his own drink, and waited for Masa to lift his. “To Kongoh?” He asked, with a lopsided grin and a single eyebrow raised. 

Masa snorted, thinking over the day. And before he even realized it, there was a smile on his face as well. 

“Yeah. To Kongoh.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I wish you a very merry Christmas and very happy (and hopefully peaceful) Diamond 3. Thank you for reading!


End file.
